Dreams of My Past
by GracieP8
Summary: Anya doesn't know about her past... for all she knew was that she was found outside, on a snowy night... (Version 1 of the story, Version 2 will come out soon!)
1. Aftermath of the Silver Storm

**Hey guys! I've been wanting to do this fanfic! It basically tells the story from Anya's POV, while we also learn about her past.**

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"My music box!" Anastasia cried in fear, she ran to the ballroom until Maria gripped onto her arm.

"Anastasia, no! You could get hurt!" Maria pleaded; Anastasia knew she was very angry and terrified for when she felt strong emotions, Maria never used her beloved sister's nickname. Her voice was breaking as she whispered her pleas, concerned for her sister's safety.

"Mashka… you… you don't know… Nana gave it to me when she was leaving for Paris, she never came back…"

"I know how you feel… I just can't lose you in the midst of danger… like what happened to our parents, our sisters and brother!"

"I'm sorry, Mashka… I'm so sorry…" Anastasia whispered tearing up as she let go of her sister's grip and ran to the ballroom...

"Anastasia!" Maria screamed, shaking with sobs as she ran to her. However, she was killed soon after calling Anastasia's name.

She let out a little gasp of fear and grief as the sister she was the closest to, immediately kneeling to the ground to the floor and didn't stir. A Bolshevik crept up on her and shot the grief-stricken duchess. Anastasia collapsed and her head hit the cool tiles on the floor, the world around her grew dark…

* * *

The girl slowly opened her eyes. When her surroundings slowly began to become clearer, she flinched in fear. "Where am I?" She thought, her worries flying over like a storm cloud.

The paint on the room looked like it could use a good old coating of paint; the only source of light was a candlestick beside a creaky side table. In all honesty, the room looked more like a prison cellar rather than a hospital.

She fiddled with her torn blanket, sitting on the cheap mattress. The girl tried to recall what happened to her but she just couldn't… even while trying her darnedest to recollect on what happened earlier.

The door creaked open as tall, dark shadows filed into the room. The nurses loomed over the already terrified girl while whispering overhead. A plump, rosy-cheeked woman gave her a hat and reassured the petrified girl.

"Anya, don't be scared. Although we couldn't do anything about your amnesia; I believe we could take care of you until the day you could go…"

Anya looked at the hat as she quietly wondered about how she came here…

* * *

Gleb felt nauseated as he lied in bed. Recalling the night's events; seeing the splatter of blood, and hearing the echo of gunshots and terrified screams. He heaved a sigh of regret as he replayed the events in his head, how he helped Grand Duchess Anastasia, Grand Duchess Maria and Tsarevich Alexei to escape through that secret tunnel. How he helped the surviving children escape, wondering if they were safe. Oh, for heaven's sake! He was the same age as Grand Duchess Anastasia! He was unable to end the lives the tsar's innocent children! Gleb tossed and turned before settling into a deep sleep for he didn't like to consider such scary and sad thoughts.

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 **Yeah, I always imagined that Gleb played a part in helping Anya to escape... but more on that in another chapter! There will be many multi-parters like this one. That I can assure you!**


	2. Good Night, Mother

**This chapter is set three months after the previous chapter. We're going to get information** of **Anya's time in Perm (both as an orphan and working at the orphanage) and Gleb's relationship with his mother. Thank you all so much for reading this! I love you guys so much!**

 **PS. For Gleb's part, listen to "Proud of Your Boy" from Aladdin the Musical for that vibe**.

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Anya tossed and turned in her sleep, as the horror movie in her mind played out. The screams resounded in the hall. She looked at the end of the door as a warm light shone through. Immediately seeking the chance to escape, Anya ran as fast as she could. However, after the sense of safety, a man snuck up behind her and shot her. Soon after, she let out a bloodcurdling scream as Anya jolted out from her bed; to her surprise, the children around her didn't stir from her cry of terror. Panting from fear, she began to cry silently to herself.

Soon after, Nurse Alisa; the same woman to tended to Anya the day she came, came into the room upon hearing Anya's loud scream.

"Anya! Are you alright? Were you hurt?"

The frightened girl immediately buried her head into Nurse Alisa's chest as she burst into heart-wrenching sobs. The woman, who was fond of Anya herself and treated her like the daughter she never had; soothed the terrified seventeen-year-old, stroking her comfortingly and whispering words of comfort into her ear. "Shh, shh Anya. It's okay dear."

Anya continued to hug Nurse Alisa, feeling her eyes droop as the latter hummed to her softly and gently. Anya soon found herself falling asleep in Nurse Alisa's arms. With a gentle smile, she whispered to the mother she seemingly never had "Good night, mother…"

Nurse Alisa smiled as the dainty girl fell asleep. She decided to let Anya sleep in her embrace for a while, and she would leave her to sleep peacefully later. She smiled and tenderly kissed Anya's head.

"Good night, my dear."

* * *

The funeral of Roman Vaganov was held on a grey Sunday morning. In attendance was his beloved wife, Lyeta and their illegitimate son, Gleb. He had committed suicide a week ago just by shooting himself, Gleb despised him even more for being selfish, almost not caring for his surviving son and his frail wife! The stares and glares at Gleb were like daggers and knives cutting into the young man. The preacher concluded the end of the funeral with the usual, solemn sigh of respect "May Roman Vaganov, rest in peace."

Lyeta looked down in shame and tried to hold a brave frontier as she wove through the crowd who whispered about her and the illegitimate son she had, along with her husband's heinous acts. Gleb was now the only one who would be able to take care of his slowly ailing mother. He had to be strong for her sake! He had to… or else, he'd have to survive alone… someday, he'll prove to those who dared to look down at him and his mother that they were just like them! Somehow… he'll make them proud of her boy...

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 **Yeah, the final line was kind of borrowed from "Proud of Your Boy". In my headcanon, Gleb had a strained relationship with his dad but was close to his mother. But... more on that in a few chapters once I get to show how Anya left the orphanage. I promise one chapter would be dedicated to Gleb's backstory, his family background and how he had a part in helping Anya out.**


	3. Beginning of a journey

**Wow. This turned out to be faster to write than I thought. It helped to listen to "Go The Distance" from Hercules, "How Far I'll Go" from Moana and of course, "Journey to the Past". Also, thanks for the reviews so far.**

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A few miles from the outskirts of Perm, just a few; well, more like at least a thousand miles from Odesa, was a hospital, which also served as an orphanage for the children. It was a run-down structure that lacked any sort of colour other than a muddy brown and a rusty red. The roof was sagging from age and a snow pile accumulating from the falling snow. The property was bordered with a tall, bent, rusty iron fence creaking partially from age and partially due to lack of maintenance.

Anya, being the oldest orphan in the hospital, had to bear the brunt of the chores, the routine of her job to work at the hospital slowly became familiar to her; she escaped from the pantry where she had been making supper for the children, and turned upstairs to accomplish her regular work. Her special care was Room F, where many orphans occupied eleven little, broken cots set in a row. Anya assembled her charges, straightened their rumpled frocks, told them to wash their hands, and aligned them in an orderly and willing line towards the dining-room to engage themselves for a blessed half hour with their meagre portions of supper. However, she didn't mind for she became like a mother to all the children in the year she lived there. Everyone absolutely adored her, save for her grumpy boss; Phlegmenkoff.

Then she dropped down on the creaky window seat and pressed her boiling, throbbing temples against the cool glass. She had been on her feet since five that morning, doing everybody's bidding, scolded and hurried by Phlegmenkoff. She gazed out across a broad stretch of snow, beyond the rusty, tall iron paling that marked the confines of the hospital, and outside the bare trees were sprinkled in white. Soon after, she slowly drifted off to sleep…

 _"Anya…" a kind, tenderly voice called; it seemingly belonged to an old woman._

 _Anya, slightly hesitant; took a step forward to see her, but the woman seemed to be drifting further and further away from her…_

 _"I'll meet you right there, in Paris…" She whispered quietly before fading away…_

"Wait! I…" Anya cried before the woman faded away from her sight. Soon after, she jolted awake. Anya looked out of the window and mused to herself "Together in Paris… I feel like I heard those words before…"

* * *

 _A few months later…_

The windows of the orphanage were empty, some with a few curtains, old worn out toys and dead flowers. However, the windows were lit up with a sea of faces of a dozen or so little children of all ages. They were waving and calling goodbye to one of the best people they knew, Anya, as she and Phlegmenkoff exited the building.

Anya wore an old, brown, tattered coat, with a long grey scarf tied around her neck. Her hat barely kept her ears warm and was quite loose, and her boots were so worn down that it was a miracle that her feet were not frostbitten in the cold for winters in Perm could be… well, let's just say it isn't easy. She fished around for the diamond secretly stashed in her pocket. The diamond was found in her underclothes and the nurses told her to save it for a crisis. Although it was enough to go to Paris, she could be mistaken for an aristocrat and au revoir… she wanted to earn rubles for herself until she could buy a ticket, after all; exit papers were expensive.

"I got you a job at the fish factory! Got that Little Miss Wendla?" Phlegmekoff's sharp voice boomed as she dragged the orphan who was too busy waving and calling goodbye to the children. "You go down this path till you get to the fork in the road. Go left..." Still not sensing her presence, she snapped "Are you even listening to me, Little Miss Enya?!"

The sudden outburst shook Anya from her reverie before mumbling "Y… yes, ma'am"

"Ok, ok, Little Miss Anna, please. Stop with the mumbling. You know how I feel about the mumbling—blah, blah, blah, blah. It's very annoying." Phlegmenkoff snarled slowly, strangling the girl with her scarf as she dragged her to the gates; leading to the rant she repeated to Anya every day. Heck, even Anya herself knew it by heart now! "Ever since you came here, you've made yourself impossible to get adopted! Insisting you actually have a family instead of being the nameless no-account you are!"

The scarf came loose as Phlegmenkoff ranted on.

"For the last year, I've fed you, I've clothed you, I've put a roof over your head! How is it you don't have a clue but you can remember that you have a family?"

"I do have a clue..." Anya exclaimed, "I'll meet you…"

"I know. 'I'll meet you right there in Paris!' So you want to go to France to find your family?" She smiled, too sweetly.

The woman turned to face the girl in front of her, still smiling saccharinely as Anya smiled and nodded in response.

"Little Miss Anya, it's time to take your place in life. In life and in line. And be grateful, too. 'I'll meet you right there in Paris'! Be grateful." Phlegmenkoff scoffed, throwing the scarf in Anya's face.

* * *

The gates slammed and the woman laughed heartily as the young girl looked up at the hospital, the only home she could remember for the last year; stuffing the scarf in her pocket. She had been found on the side of a road, unconscious and with no memory of her past. Anya had lived there ever since. While she knew part of her was going to miss this place, she knew it wasn't her real home and now, she was finally free to find her real one.

"'Be grateful Anya'… I _am_ grateful alright… grateful to get away!" Anya muttered to herself as she approached the fork. "'Go left' she says. Well, if I go left, I'll be 'Anya the orphan' for ever. But if I go right, maybe I could find..."

She slightly hesitated as she turned away from the left facing side. Anya sighed "Maybe she's right. I'm being crazy, maybe I should turn back. On one hand, I could find that person but on the other hand… oh, this is crazy! Me? Go to Paris?! Impossible!" She slowly began to panic at the thought of going to Paris all alone, with no guidance.

"Oh, what do I do? Send me a sign! _Anything_!" Anya called out into the woods before sinking to the ground, sitting on a fallen tree stump. The wind blew her scarf away from her and Anya ran to chase it. Suddenly, she realized it was her sign.

"Great, the wind wants me to go to St. Petersburg? That's-" She paused with a slight gasp as she picked up the scarf. "I can take a hint…" Anya said quietly as she smiled softly, looking at the path in front of her. The wind seemed to persuade her. She slowly stood, eyes never leaving the long path. After all, her journey to find out about herself had just started…

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 **Phlegmenkoff was a minor character from the movie who never made it to the musical. If Phlegmenkoff's line about mumbling seems familiar to you, it's from 'Tangled'. Before you ask questions, YES! Anya being called "Wendla" was a nod to Christy Altomare (aka. The actress who originated the role of Anya in the musical) who played Wendla in the 1st US tour of "Spring Awakening" (in my fanfic dictionary, there is _NO_ such thing as coincidences.) Anyways, I hope you liked this short chapter. Leave your thoughts on the story and tell me what you like/what I could do better. Fair warning: the next chapter is gonna be _pretty_ brutal and possibly upsetting to some readers. Don't say I never warned you! This fanfic was rated T for a reason!**


	4. A Simple Thing (Part 1)

**I've decided to split this chapter into 2 parts because I still need to figure out how to begin the second act of this chapter... especially since it switches between Anya and Gleb's POV...**

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Gleb looked at the pale, lifeless shape of his mother. She was breathing heavily and could barely say anything at all…

"Gleb…" Lyeta said, her voice barely a whisper; contrasting to her usually cheerful lilt.

"Mama… I… It's okay. You'll be strong. Right? Right?" he begged, his voice breaking; trying not to let his overwhelming emotions of sorrow and grief show.

"Gleb, my son… I want… you to always remember this… you are not your father's son… promise me that you'll never end up like him…"

"Mama, I…" Gleb whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek; feeling his mother's cold, clammy hands.

"Shh… it's okay, my son. No matter what, I'll always watch over you…" After that, she fell into what most people called 'the eternal sleep'; also known as death.

He shook as he remembered all the losses he went through and saw.

* * *

A _few years ago..._

"Comrades, the time is coming rapidly for us to finally execute our plan! To make every man a king! In a mere week's time, we will be armed and ready to overthrow the tsar and all his oppression!" Roman Vaganov said, rousing the revolutionary militia in a bar they'd rented (the owner being a Bolshevik himself). He was one of Lenin's second in command, and that meant rousing the troops when he wasn't around. It was rumoured that Lenin might be in some trouble with the Tsar. Roman was ready and willing to take his higher-up's place if asked. He hated the Romanovs with a passion. He once worked as a guard there, and while the pay was quite alright, he held a deep lust for the Tsarina. However, Alexandra loved Nicholas and turned the guard away every time he even tried to flirt with her. This made him grow bitter and hateful, and he frankly thought the Tsarina was a bumbling idiot for believing that prayers could save her haemophiliac son.

* * *

Gleb was the seventeen-year-old son of Roman, and he was willing to fight as well. He wore an ushanka bearing the hammer and sickle during these meetings, intending to make his father proud. When was he ever? It always felt like he was one step behind, but maybe when every man was a king, his father would begin to show his affection to him. However, he seemed to grow uneasy as he heard his father speak of his plan.

"The royals are _only_ causing us pain! And so what shall we do, comrades? I say, destroy them!"

The men cheered in agreement.

"Father, I thought we were going to spare as _many_ lives as we could" interjected Gleb, who couldn't imagine killing at this age, putting emphasis on 'many'.

"The Romanovs were given _everything_ and _gave back nothing_. They didn't earn their lives." Roman snapped, giving his son an icy glare.

"Sorry…" Gleb swore to keep his mouth shut, but he actually had second thoughts…


	5. A Simple Thing (Part 2)

**Yeah. I should split this chapter again. Warning: This chapter is gonna be pretty brutal and upsetting to certain readers. There are scenes of extensive violence, death, gunshots and gore. Reader discretion advised! Don't say I didn't warn you!**

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Anastasia quivered in fear as she heard what they were going to do. Her family was told they were going to take a photograph to dispel the rumours of their escape. Her father asked for chairs… the guards brought some in. And soon after, one of the guards pulled out a gun and explained "In view that you are in the way of making every man a king, the Ural Executive Committee has decided to execute you."

There was a moment of stunned silence before her father yelled angrily in disbelief _"What?"_

The head executioner repeated what he said and shot her father directly in the heart. And that was when the bloodshed began. The other men were told who to kill. Anastasia's mother died almost immediately, mid-prayer, she was struck on the left side of her skull.

Feeling petrified, she held Alexei close to her as she knew he was the easiest to kill out of the children due to his haemophilia.

The girls had gems sewn in their underclothes. The executioners shot at them over and over. But they still did not die as the bullets bounced off the gems. But then Olga was knocked backwards by the collapsing bodies of her parents. As she stumbled backwards, one of the bullets shot through beside the right side of her skull and shot her right away. Tatiana was shielding her siblings with her own body. Seeing a Bolshevik approach her, she dragged herself to her feet to face him and was shot through the head and her corpse fell to the floor.

* * *

Gleb's gut twisted as he watched the horrific scene unfold, he rushed down to the cellar, knowing that it was hopeless, but he couldn't watch children around his age being brutally murdered.

Despite Anastasia and Maria still having several bullet wounds from protecting their little brother, they were still alive. The youngest children were huddled at the corner of the room. Maria was desperately clawing at the doors in hope of escape. But it was no use. They were trapped.

"Hurry! This way!" Gleb cried to the siblings as he leaned his body against a painting, revealing a secret exit tunnel; handing them a lantern. Anastasia whispered a quick 'thank-you' as they made their escape. Little did they know an executioner was following them.

* * *

Alexei panted for air but soon after, he was repeatedly beaten and shot twice through the ear. Maria and Anastasia gave a sharp gasp as they ran up the stairs, trying to hide from the man. Soon after, they reached the entrance to the ballroom. Anastasia looked at the glimmering thing in front of her, taking in the appearance of her grandmother's final gift before she left to Paris…

"My music box!" Anastasia cried in fear, she ran to the ballroom until Maria gripped onto her arm.

"Anastasia, no! You could get hurt!" Maria pleaded; Anastasia knew she was very angry and terrified for when she felt strong emotions, Maria never used her beloved sister's nickname. Her voice was breaking as she whispered her pleas, concerned for her sister's safety.

"Mashka… you… you don't know… Nana gave it to me when she was leaving for Paris, she never came back…"

"I know how you feel… I just can't lose you in the midst of danger… like what happened to our parents, our sisters and brother!"

"I'm sorry, Mashka… I'm so sorry…" Anastasia whispered tearing up as she let go of her sister's grip and ran to the ballroom...

"Anastasia!" Maria screamed, shaking with sobs as she ran to her. However, she was killed soon after calling Anastasia's name.

She let out a little gasp of fear and grief as Maria was the sister she was the closest to, immediately kneeling to the ground to the floor and didn't stir. A Bolshevik crept up on her and shot the grief-stricken duchess. Anastasia collapsed and her head hit the cool tiles on the floor, the world around her grew dark…

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 **Warned you this was gonna be brutal! Yeah, now we know how Gleb had an indirect part on helping Anya escape. I watched the movie for reference on how Dmitri helped Anya to escape but since Dima isn't a kitchen boy in the musical... Gleb was the next best thing since although I'm on Team Dmitri, part of me is on Team Gleb. CURSE YOU MUSICAL FOR TEARING MY HEART BETWEEN 2 SHIPS! Warning: Next chapter is gonna tackle the dark topic of suicide... after that, I promise no more dark stuff...**


	6. A Simple Thing (Part 3)

**Warning: There's gonna be a little suicide in this short chapter so, be very careful! This could be upsetting, unsettling or triggering to certain readers. Don't say I didn't warn you!**

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Gleb felt nauseated as he lied in bed. Recalling the night's events; seeing the splatter of blood, and hearing the echo of gunshots and terrified screams. He heaved a sigh of regret as he replayed the events in his head, how he helped Grand Duchess Anastasia, Grand Duchess Maria and Tsarevich Alexei to escape through that secret tunnel. How he helped the surviving children escape, wondering if they were safe. Oh, for heaven's sake! He was the same age as Grand Duchess Anastasia! He was unable to end the lives the tsar's innocent children! Gleb tossed and turned before settling into a deep sleep for he didn't like to consider such scary and sad thoughts.

Soon after, he heard the door creak and soon after, gunfire; Gleb tiptoed down the staircase to investigate the mysterious intruder. However, all he could see was the corpse of his father, pistol on the floor… he soon realized what happened to him…

* * *

 _Leningrad, 1920_

Finding a job for himself was the most difficult thing for Gleb, just the mention of his family name would cause him to be shunned; now, with both of his parents dead, he had to do what it takes to survive, and that means getting a job for himself. When he picked up the newest issue of the local newspaper, when his eyes lay on the article about the rumoured survival of the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, his memories of the past flashed forward as he remembered how both of his parents died of shame, thanks to the Romanovs! "I swear Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov… you will regret trying to escape!" Gleb cursed the young woman under his breath, vowing revenge on the surviving Grand Duchess…

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 **Sorry about all the deaths in the previous chapter. I promise there will be no more deaths after that, well; if you count flashbacks. Please review and leave feedback about what you like/what I could work on.**


	7. Dmitri's Requiem (Part 1)

**Sorry for all the deaths in the previous chapters, I promise no more deaths after this one. Also, I decided to split this into two parts because it would definitely be a VERY long chapter if I merged these two. I also used Aladdin as a reference for Dmitri's scenes. Oh, and some Dimya fluff is in this chapter and the next chapter.**

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 _Leningrad, 1924._

Seven years had passed since the revolution, and it was the very same place. The Bolsheviks promised a better life than what the Tsar gave them but, it was the very same place. There was still poverty, hunger and homelessness… still, the rumours and gossiping immediately brightened up their dull lives.

* * *

Life continued as normal for the villagers of Leningrad. Deep in the heart of the city, the traders' market was as alive and busy as ever. By mid-morning, sellers had set up their stalls to sell their wares and had attracted a sizable crowd. But it was not uncommon for thieves to covet the many tempting exotic trinkets and oddities. One such thief was a young man Dmitri. Having been brought up on the streets with only his agility and street smarts, Dmitri spent his days dodging Bolsheviks and stealing the meals he needed to survive.

"I'm starving," Dmitri said sitting on the rooftop of an abandoned stall, eying what he should steal for his breakfast. He was moments away from reaching a particularly delicious-looking loaf of bread when he quickly ducked under the stall instead. A young woman had approached the stall forcing Dmitri to remain out of sight.

"Would the pretty young woman like a loaf of bread? They're very scarce at this time of year." The street vendor asked the girl.

"Oh… Um… sure, I would love one." The woman whispered as she took the loaf of bread. Fortunately, it was loud enough for the man to hear.

"That'll be 48 rubles." Dmitri was not too far away watching the exchange curiously. He seemed rather fixated on the mysterious shopper who might have cost him his breakfast, however, something about her voice sounded so familiar, could it be? Impossible, she was killed just like her parents, brother and sisters… but she was rumoured to have survived the genocide…

"R-rubles? Right… rubles… I HAVE money. Uh…" The woman scrambled, looking in vain for something to give the merchant. "If you would just let me have some time, I can-"

"You can't pay, you say?" The street vendor hissed, as all manner of pleasantry gone from his tone. "So you're a thief then. Do you know what happens to thieves like you?"

"No! I can pay! I just don't have anything on me right now!" The soft-spoken woman stammered meekly.

"SOMEONE CATCH THAT THIEF BEFORE SHE RUNS AWAY!" The man yelled to catch everyone's attention.

The woman's eyes darted around the marketplace in fear. Thinking fast, Dmitri found an empty barrel nearby and threw it onto the merchant, knocking him out.

"Quick! This way!" Dmitri said, leading the woman away from the ruckus, along with taking a loaf of bread for himself.

"You didn't have to do that!" The woman said, out of breath as she tried to keep up.

"Don't worry about it! Although in this world, you could only care about your own safety. I'm Dmitri, Dmitri Sudayev. Now, my work here is done and I can go back to what I need to do." He said, dashing away before the woman could introduce herself. However, he ran into a wall that blocked his escape path.

* * *

"Stop, thief! I'll have your hands for a trophy, street rat!" A street vendors yelled

"All this for a loaf of bread?" Dmitri asked coolly. He jumped off, landing on two ropes strung between buildings, with drying clothes on them. He skied down them, collecting bits and pieces of clothing on him as he went. Finally, he was nearing the end of the rope, at a window, when a woman reached out and slammed the shutters closed. Dmitri slammed into the shutters and fell to the street, his fall was broken by numerous awnings and the pile of clothes around him. He pulled off the top layer of clothes and was about to enjoy his bread when he heard a street vendor cry...

"HALT!" Another street vendor yelled. "You've finally done it this time street rat, you're not getting away so easy!"

"Who said this was easy?" Dmitri asked cockily as he hid from their sight, pulling a giant, oversized coat and newsboy hat onto him.

"Morning ladies" He casually greeted to the babushkas, cuddled near the only working heater in town.

"Getting into trouble since this morning huh?" one of them rasped angrily, remembering that he stole her diamond ring and sold it away.

"Trouble? No way. You're only in trouble if you get caught…" He was soon cut off by the street vendor from earlier who was harassing the woman, yanking his coat and it fell off.

"I'm in trouble…" Dmitri blushed as he was caught. He ran as fast as his skinny, long legs could carry him.

* * *

Just as soon as he felt safe from them, he heard a cry.

"There he is!" One of the street vendors called out.

The street rat didn't hesitate, he ran along the alleyway which led back into the heart of the marketplace. Unfortunately, there were too many villagers around to make a clean get-away. Rather than stick to the streets, Dmitri decided to take to the rooftops. He pushed off hard from the ground and leapt onto a nearby awning, which propelled him up onto the roof of an abandoned warehouse.

* * *

Dmitri looked out from the roof, checking if the street vendors were gone. His heart was racing from the thrill of the action. Soon after, he entered the secret passage of his only home ever since his parents died. His mother died from tuberculosis when Dmitri was one so he neither remembered nor thought of her that much, but he still missed his father; his father was against the Bolsheviks as he believed that things would get worse with bloodshed, but when he rebelled against them in public, they hung him to his death. Dmitri was there to witness the horrific event and soon after, he became a street rat and his life wasn't the same without the warm safety of his parents…

Dmitri woke up from his reverie when he heard snoring coming from nowhere. He turned around and saw a man in his forties, chest rising u and down, hat tipped over his eyes.

"Lily… I love you…" the vagrant purred in his sleep. Dmitri whistled loudly in his ear, startling the intruder in the process before letting out a yawn.

"W-what?!" He cried as Dmitri neared him with a bread knife "D-don't kill me! I was nearly killed by a Bolshevik firing squad today! Please! I don't want to die without my Lily!" The man begged dramatically. However, Dmitri cut the loaf of bread and gave him a slice, along with a freshly brewed cup of tea.

"No need to thank me since you're right, the government these days suck." Dmitri interrupted the man before he could speak. "Sudayev. Dmitri Sudayev."

"I'm Vladimir _Popov_." Vlad introduced, putting emphasis on his last name "P-O-P-O-V. But call me Vlad if you'd prefer to do so." He reached out his hand for Dmitri to shake.

Slightly hesitant, Dmitri shook Vlad's hand, knowing that they have to take a _long_ time to become the best of friends and comrades…

* * *

 **Yeah, And that my friends, is how I envisioned Dima and Vlad to have met. As much as I want to focus on this story, a fanfic idea just bloomed in my head. I've been listening to the "Tuck Everlasting" musical soundtrack and I think it would make a good Aphmau AU with the Lycans (mostly discovered the musical thanks to an interview which had the brief mention of "Tuck Everlasting"). It's a story about a girl who discovers the magical secret of the titular Tuck family, it's also quite a good book dealing about the topic of the pros and cons of immortality. Think it'd be something you all would be interested in seeing? Leave your thoughts in the reviews if you're both a Fanastasia, Tuckie and an Aphmau lover.**


	8. Dmitri's Requiem (Part 2)

_A few months later…_

Ever since Dmitri and Vlad met, they moved out of the abandoned warehouse and took up residence in the abandoned Yusupov Palace. It was a cold night; Dmitri lay awake on the armchair he was sitting in. In front of him, Vlad laid on the sofa and snored, swathed in a tattered sheet. Dmitri listened to the hostile inhalation, unable to sleep. However, it was more than Vlad's snoring that kept him awake. It was the memory of that woman from a few months ago. The one he rescued at the marketplace. He found himself thinking of her beautiful face. Her hair was the perfect shade of blonde, not too dark but not too light, reminding him of honey. Her slender, petite frame, and when he held her hand; it felt as light and ethereal as a flower petal, which with the slightest touch, it could break immediately. And her eyes… those deep, blue eyes… they were filled with so much innocence, yet a hidden fire glowed in them. All that looked and felt familiar to him… but who did she remind him of…?

* * *

Dmitri quietly took out a wooden chest and when he opened it, it was filled to the brim with letters; the scent of old paper and orange blossoms overtook him as he picked up an already opened envelope. He remembered how they began writing letters…

* * *

 _15 years ago…_

Dmitri looked out at the palace from his bedside window, the only source of light being a lamp and the window near his bed. "If only Papa and I were rich like them…" he thought to himself, unable to sleep on the lumpy mattress he had. In an attempt to sleep, he snuck out to have an evening stroll. After all, his mother passed away a long time ago and his father was working up late and burning the midnight oil with his new job.

The full moon shined on his face, the crickets chirped their little tune and the cold wind blew in his hair. However, despite this, the wave of sleep still didn't loom over Dmitri. He did not know where he wanted to go but somehow… he was drawn to the palace. He knew he had to go there…

Once Dmitri reached the gates of the palace, he heard someone sniffling.

"Probably the flu…" He thought to himself, however; the sniffles turned into sobs and howls. He knew he had to do something about it…

Dmitri climbed over the walls deftly and found the source of the noise in the garden. It was the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov! He recognized her from the numerous parades he saw. Why on earth was she there at such an hour? Dmitri walked up to the girl and asked her comfortingly "Are you alright?"

The girl looked at the young street rat and sniffled "Nana's going away to Paris tomorrow… and I'll never see her again…"

"No. That's not true. I'm sure your grandmother would take you to Paris and come back soon before you know it." Dmitri comforted the grand duchess as he pulled her in for a hug before pulling away "Oh, how rude of me! Especially for the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, I am Dmitri Sudayev, but call me Dima."

"And you may call me Natsya… It's nice to be meet a new friend…" The grand duchess reached out her hand to shake, surprising the young boy. For when he encountered nobility like her, they often shunned him for being different to them in terms of wealth…

"Nice to meet you too…" Dmitri chirped, shaking her hand, feeling electricity tingle between them as they touched…

And ever since that day, they kept in contact and wrote letters to each other, it was their own little secret, nobody but Anastasia and Dmitri knew about it…

* * *

Dmitri smiled fondly at the memory as he opened the letter, reading the first sentence by heart.

"My heartfelt thanks for the charming letter, which made me so happy. I'm glad to hear that you're having a good day but for my case, I'm having a _terrible_ time…"

He reminisced about the day the letter arrived. It had been nearly seven years since the letter first arrived. To him, it felt like yesterday when he got his last letter from her.

"Please forgive me for my awful handwriting, I'm just being stupid. It is all rather boring without Mashka or you here. Olga spends every waking minute with Alexei. She helps him eat, reads him books and makes sure he is not lonely. Tatiana and I spend a great deal of time with him too but certainly not as much as Olga.

My little Jim seems to be much better than how he was last week. He still has a cold but he's stopped sneezing now. I wish to play with him but Tatiana said "That's probably not the best idea Nastya. He needs rest."

What a bore! Oh well, at least I will get to play with Jimmy when he's better. An hour ago I was playing with Ortipo which was very fun until she got tired. She's been so terribly lazy recently and is almost always lying on Tatiana's lap. Joy is always beside Alexei's bed almost as if she's keeping guard.

The weather here was very nice up until today. It was very warm so we, when not with Alexei, spent much of our time outside. Strangely enough, I got more sunburnt than the others, like a real Arab! But now it's rather cold. Dear Olishka has been getting very thin and pale. Tatiana worries a great deal for her. I hope she feels better soon although I doubt it's anything too serious.

I've been getting rather fat lately. I hope you will write back to me very soon. I must end my letter now. Tatiana's looking at me from across the room as if she wishes to speak to me. I've told her that I'm nearly finished so she's sat down with Ortipo on her lap. I swore to keep our writing a secret… _no one_ in my family must know…"

* * *

Goodbye, don't forget me…" Dmitri whispered quietly to no one in particular. He will _never_ forget her. The man _rarely_ cried but now, he couldn't resist the tears. He knew he would never be complete until he found _her_ again… his beautiful friend, Natsya…

* * *

 **More Dimya to come in later chapters! Yeah, thought that them writing letters to each other would add a backstory to Dima and Anya's relationship and it would help when Dima tries to teach Anya how to be Anastasia (a little dramatic irony...). And as usual, please leave your thoughts on this chapter, what you like/ what I could improve on...**


	9. Have you Heard?

_Leningrad, 1927_

Ten years had passed since the revolution and yet, nothing had changed. The Bolsheviks promised a better life than what the Tsar gave them but, it was the very same place. There was still poverty, hunger and homelessness… still, the rumours and gossiping immediately brightened up their dull lives.

"Hey, did you hear about the rumours, Vlad?" Dmitri asked his friend as they walked to the trading centre, a plan beginning to form in his head.

"No, tell me. Today was already bad enough as another border closed!"

"The Grand Duchess Anastasia may be still alive and the Dowager is paying a royal sum!"

Vlad sighed at the rumour that went on for ten years "Not _you_ too, Dmitri!"

"Think of it this way Vlad, you could get your ticket out of here! I get to be rich! And a girl gets to live in royalty, wealth and fame! Then we all live happily ever after!" Dmitri responded nonchalantly "We'll find a girl to play the part and teach her what to say to the Dowager. Dress her up and take her to Paris, and it's easy!"

Vlad immediately thought of the reward money "Imagine the reward her dear old grandmamma would pay"

Although the Grand Duchess Anastasia might have been killed, Dmitri still hoped that he could find his beautiful Natsya.

* * *

Gleb was on patrol today, satisfied with his promotion; after all, it was hard to get promoted if you were the son of a murderer…

"No!" He heard a female voice cry. Gleb turned around to see a girl who collapsed to the floor when she heard a loud noise, dropping her broom.

"It was a truck backfiring, comrade. That's all it was." Gleb comforted the street-sweeper who fell on the road, helping her up and returning her broomstick "Those days are over, neighbour against neighbour. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore…" He couldn't help but be smitten by her fragile beauty; different to the robust, loud women he met in Leningrad… Gleb noticed she began to quiver in fear.

"You're shaking. There's a tea shop just steps from here, let me…"

"Thank you," The woman said softly as she deftly took her broomstick from him.

"What's the hurry?" He asked a little too flirtatiously.

"I can't lose this job. They're not easy to come by. But thank you" Soon after, the street-sweeper ran away from him.

"I'm here every day!"

* * *

 **Oh, shoot, the cliffhanger again. Next up: the auditions and the return of Vladstasia (those who saw Royal Misfits know what I mean)**


	10. Grandmamma! It's me!

Auditions began a day after Dmitri announced his grand scheme. Vlad and he made handbills and soon, many women got interested in it. They wrote their names on a list, which was hanging on the gate of a palace. Dmitri felt like the majority of the women in St. Petersburg was there.

And to say that auditions for the Grand Duchess Anastasia were going well would be a complete and utter lie. The tea had run out halfway through viewing. 1000 actresses; and Dmitri could sense his friend's patience was wearing down. And he couldn't blame him.

So far, out of those 1000, _only_ 13 naturally had the same hair colour as the Grand Duchess Anastasia. Of those 13, 3 had the 'Romanov eyes'. The rest of the actresses did horrible dye jobs or _didn't_ try at all!

"Nice, nice, very nice, thank you." Dmitri forcefully smiled as he crossed off a name on the list.

"I look like a duchess and dance like a feather!" The actress cried before exiting the palace.

"O-kay, next please," Dmitri muttered.

A slightly older woman slowly walked onto the stage, a long brown fur coat trailing behind her, a cigarette holder protruding from her lips. Once she reached the centre, she wheezed, gasping for air.

"Grandmamma! It's me!" The actress said in a deep, sultry voice, dropping her coat to the ground, revealing the shorter version of a sailor's dress. "Anastasia!" She rolled her hips and took a puff from her cigarette.

 _"A… are you kidding me?"_ Dmitri thought to himself, his jaw dropped to the ground in shock. Vlad let out a frustrated groan and slumped onto the desk.

Soon after, each of the girls got worse and Dmitri felt like sleeping from boredom, but he must persist for her! Natsya's out here somewhere! He knew it…

* * *

The sun was about to set and yet, they _still_ couldn't find the Grand Duchess Anastasia. Now, all hope was gone. The last few girls of the day found out that it was actually a 'get-rich-quick' scheme and they threatened to report Dmitri and Vlad… oh, how _awful_ today was!

"Well, you tried my friend…" Vlad said as he sipped his tea while reading the newspapers "Anastasias don't grow on trees!"

"I'm _not_ giving up!" Dmitri persisted as he waved his hand dismissively "I'll go to Siberia to find an Anastasia…"

"You've never been to Siberia." Vlad said, flipping the papers nonchalantly. Dmitri sighed in defeat and looked up and down at Vlad, head nodding as an alternate plan formed.

"No! Just no! I don't want to dress up in drag for the rest of my life!" Vlad cried as he knew what Dmitri was up to. "What did I do to be your friend?"

"It was me or Bolshevik firing squad!" Dmitri reminded.

"You saved my life!" Vlad thanked gratefully.

"A rash act of kindness. Completely out of character!" Dmitri sighed as he fiddled with the music box he found earlier "How do you open it?"

"It's a fake!"

"How would you know?"  
"No one spots a fake like Count Vladimir Popov. Biggest fake of them all…" Vlad sighed. However, Dmitri wasn't listening, he knew he had to find his Natsya… somehow, he sensed that she was alive…

* * *

 **Oh shoot! Another cliffhanger? Ah well, since exams are over and the term break is coming up soon, I will be a little faster in writing these chapters...**


	11. Like a Memory from A Dream

"One ticket to Paris, please." Anya said to the porter once she arrived to the front of the train station.

"Exit papers." he said, glaring down at the woman.

"Exit papers? I don't have…" She gasped. That seemed steep for a train ticket.

"No exit papers? No ticket!" he snapped curtly, slamming the window shut. Anya and the older woman behind her gasped in shock. Anya sniffed, trying to hold back her tears; all her hard work and travelling all the way to St. Petersburg had gone to waste… how was she going to Paris now?

"Psst."

Anya turned around to see the older woman. She was wrapped in multiple shawls and her white hair shot out from her hood in thick tufts.

"See Dmitri. He can help…" she whispered, her eyes darting left and right. Anya leaned closer to her.

"Where can I find him?" Anya whispered, regaining her hopes that she could still go to Paris.

"At the Yusupov palace. But you never heard it from me." The woman responded, shaking her head.  
"Oh." Anya said, turning back towards town as the older woman ushered her away with whispers of "Go", "Dmitri…"

She quickly said thank you to the older woman before running back to town.

* * *

Anya looked at the intimidating crowd in front of her, she had gotten herself lost and had no idea where to go or what to do. She had tried asking for directions but no one seemingly heard her, and she couldn't blame them with all the racket there was.

"Um, ex-excuse me?" Anya stammered to a man nearby. Fortunately, it was loud enough for the man to hear.

"Yes, how may I help you Madame?"

 _"Finally!"_ Anya thought to herself in exasperation after calling out to the villagers so many times. "I'm looking for the Yusupov palace."  
"It's that way!" The man said "But no one lives here anymore so feel free to do whatever you want with it."

Anya thanked the man graciously as she made her way to the palace.

* * *

Anya looked up at the palace above. The palace was beautiful, although, somewhat dilapidated and neglected. She couldn't shake off a sense of familiarity as she wandered the outside, trying to find an entrance. She looked at the boarded up door and leaned against the wooden boards, peering inside before prying the boards away. A tough pull and they flew off, sending her to the ground and landing with a thump.

* * *

Soon after, Anya made her way inside and began exploring the castle. The rooms were mostly dark, very little light filtered in through the windows. Cobwebs and dust covered almost every surface. Tables, chairs, tapestries, along with many other objects, lay in disarray.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Anya called out into the emptiness, she looked up at the flight of stairs above her and slowly began to make her way up. The stairs led her down the hallway into a small parlour.

The room was covered in tapestries and large paintings, and hand-carved tables and chairs were scattered about. A long table was covered with silver mirrors. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and cobwebs. Anya picked up one of the small mirrors on the table and wiped the dust off with her hand. Once clean, she saw something else on the mirror- the black and white photograph of a royal family, however; one of the girls in the picture caught her attention. She shrugged and placed the mirror back on the table. She shook her head once or twice, trying to shake off the strange sense of belonging to the place. Surely she must be dreaming, but something about this place just felt impossibly familiar…

* * *

She slowly made her way towards the door, where a small vase stood in front of a mirror. It was painted with delicate swans, bears and twisting vines of flowers.

"This place… it's strange… it's _almost_ like a memory from a dream…" Anya whispered to herself as she examined the complex details of the vase, tracing the gilded wings of the swans. Her gaze soon focused on the reflection in the mirror, her reflection was different; she was wearing a long, light pink dress that glittered and felt lighter than air. Shaking her head vigorously, she snapped out of her daydream. Soon after, she heard a loud crashing noise nearby, dashing to the room to investigate the source…

* * *

 **The dress' description was based on what Anya wore during the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade performance, I found it beautiful so I found a way to incorporate it into the story.**


	12. Could it be?

**Two chapters in a day? Man! I'm on fire today!**

* * *

"Is anybody here?" Anya's voice echoed through the room. "I'm looking for someone called Dmitri…"

"I'm Dmitri…" a handsome, tall, young man with dark hair came over to her, asking cynically "What do you want?"

"I need exit papers. I heard that you were the only person who could help me." she begged.

"Exit papers are expensive…"

"But I saved a little money…"

"The right papers cost a lot!"

"I'm a hard worker…" Anya begged as Dmitri sat down on the chair.

"What do you do?" Dmitri wondered.

"I'm a street-sweeper." She confessed.

"A _street-sweeper_?" Dmitri laughed.

"In Odesa, I washed dishes! Before that, I worked at the hospital in Perm-" Anya continued

"It's a _long_ way from here…" Dmitri waved his hand dismissively.

"I know, I walked it..."

"You walked here, all the way from Perm?" he pondered, a new admiration sparked in his eyes.

"I had no choice…" Anya whispered

"Who are you running from?" Dmitri asked in concern.

"I'm running to someone… I don't know who they are but they're waiting for me in Paris…" she explained.

"You don't need papers! There's a canal! Why don't _you_ jump in and start swimming? You'll be in Paris before you know it!" he said, laughing at his own joke "She's crazy!"

"I'm not crazy!" Anya hissed angrily, unable to tolerate him any longer… "Why are you so unkind?"

* * *

Sensing the rising tension between the two, Vlad stepped in and asked: "Do you want something to drink?"

"Yes, please…" the soft-spoken woman whispered quietly, relieved about the change of subject.

Vlad sent Dmitri to get a glass of water "This _isn't_ a soup kitchen, Vlad…" he murmured in annoyance.

When he came back with some water, the young woman turned away and drank the whole glass in one go.

"Who are you?" Dmitri asked.

She turned around and whispered hesitantly "I… I don't know…"

The young man nudged Vlad in the arm and chuckled "She doesn't know!"

"They gave me a name at the hospital… Anya…" She didn't like how he laughed at her "They told me I had amnesia…"

Dmitri shook his head and sat down, putting his feet on the desk.

"The nurses found me unconscious on the side of a road. The first thing I remember is being in a hospital. It was somewhere in Perm, I think… anyways, it was about ten years ago so I don't remember it exactly… well, I don't know what happened to me before that… after they let me go, I walked across half of Russia to find out who I am… and I still don't know…" Vlad and Dmitri heard how hard she tried not to cry as she went on; she must have been through a lot in those ten years… "I want to go to Paris, to find my family… if I _had_ one…"

* * *

Dmitri began to feel sorry for the girl. However, what caught his attention was that she was standing side by side with the photograph of the Romanovs.

And she and Grand Duchess Anastasia _looked_ practically identical!

"Vlad, do you see what I see?" Dmitri whispered to his friend, quickly pointing to the photograph and the woman in front of them.

Vlad threw a cursory glance towards the girl and the picture before turning back to his friend. "No."

Dmitri grabbed his chin, pointing back towards the girl and the portrait. Within seconds, Vlad saw the resemblance and gasped "Ah, yes!"

"W-what are you staring at?" Anya cried in shock as Dmitri continued to examine her, she looked the same age as Grand Duchess Anastasia would have been if she were still alive, and looked like her. "What are _you_? Part-vulture or something?"

"You know…" he began "Never mind… so you want to go to Paris?"

"Yes!"

"Do you have a place to sleep in?"

"No. I work all day but I don't have enough money to rent a room."

"You can live here!" Vlad suggested, picking up his friend's scheme.

"Are you serious?" Anya asked.

"Yes, you can live with us. There's more than enough room for three people!" Dmitri agreed, grinning.

"Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, tears of joy brimming out of her eyes. "But why were you staring at me like that earlier?"

"You resemble the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov…" Dmitri started.

"The same blue eyes. 'The Romanov eyes'!" Vlad added on.

"The same hair colour." Dmitri continued, Anya looked at the two men in confusion.

"She's the same age! The same physical type!" Vlad finished.

"Wait, are you trying to tell me you think I am the Grand Duchess Anastasia herself?!" Anya cried, bewildered at the two of them, unable to process those thoughts in her head.

"So you heard of the rumours…"

"Yes. Everyone heard about it."

"I've seen thousands of girls over the country and not one of them looks as much like the Grand Duchess as you!" Dmitri said, getting back to the topic. Well, what he said wasn't exactly a lie for one, she was the spitting image of his beautiful friend, Natsya and two, he saw all the women in St. Petersburg today and none of them looked like her!

"This is crazy! Me? A princess?" Anya exclaimed, still unable to process those facts.

"No one knows what happened to the Grand Duchess Anastasia." Vlad commented "And her only family left is in Paris!"

"And you're looking for family in Paris!" Dmitri explained "You can't tell me you never considered it!"

"That I could be royalty?" Anya responded, pressing her hand against her chest in awe. The two men nodded at the same time. "Well, I don't know… it's hard to believe you're a duchess when you sleep on a damp floor… but I guess every lonely girl likes to think they're royalty…"

Anya stared up at the portrait dreamily. She couldn't lie, she liked to pretend she was a princess during her time at the orphanage. It had helped when she felt alone. But thinking that she actually was? Never! But seeing the photograph, it was too much of a coincidence that they looked alike. But it was probably unlikely she _was_ the Grand Duchess Anastasia.

"We want to reunite her with her grandmother. Do you want to try it? If you're not Anastasia, it's just an honest mistake. But if you really are the princess, then you'll finally know who you are!" Dmitri persuaded.

"Alright. I'll try…"

* * *

Dmitri and Vlad led Anya to her room. The former opened the door to Grand Duchess Anastasia and Grand Duchess Maria's bedroom "That's your former bedroom. You shared it with your elder sister, Maria."

Anya looked around the room "It somehow looks familiar to me…"

"Lessons will begin tomorrow. Supper should be ready in an hour. In the meantime, you could freshen up or take a short nap." Vlad informed as Anya sat on the bed.

"Meet you in the Mauve room."


	13. You shine from here

**Wow. This got out sooner than expected. It helped if you listen to "I See The Light" from Tangled, "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera and "You Shine" from Carrie The Musical. Also, the return of Dimya fluff! And three chapters in one day? I'm on a roll and NO ONE'S GONNA BRING ME DOOOOOOWWWWWWNNNNNNN! (OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!)**

* * *

All she could hear was gunfire and screaming. The smoke was thick and enveloped her. Anya couldn't breathe, couldn't see and couldn't move. The screaming, the gunshots, the noise was deafening. More gunshots were fired and then silence, nothing but silence.

"That one, there! Shoot her _again_!" someone said, but she could not identify the voice.

Feeling weak, Anya grabbed a wall for support and started to stand, coughing and gasping for breath. And then, something struck her chest, and everything went dark.

* * *

Voices. There were distant voices. She was confused. Her body ached and she was so frightened. The only thing she could hear was a constant humming. Was that the sound of an engine? There was a lurch and Anya turned, but the movement made her feel nauseated and giddy. She tried to sit up but instead, felt something slip underneath her and with a terrifying motion, Anya felt herself starting to slip. She tried to move, she pulled herself up with all her strength, but that made the falling faster, and her head hit the ground in a painful thump.

* * *

Anya awoke to darkness; feeling lightheaded and feeble, still unable to process anything. She mustered all her remaining strength to stand up in order to see her surroundings. There were tracks surrounding her and snow was softly falling. She could not remember anything, she could not make sense of anything but the fact that she must have been in a truck and fallen out. Her strength gave out and she soon collapsed to the ground.

A bright light caressed her face but Anya didn't wake up.

"Is she alive?" someone was saying. It was much kinder than the voices she heard, one that got nearer and nearer, and she felt a hand on her wrist, over her heart, brushing against her cheek.

"She's alive and breathing, but very weak. And, as far as I can tell, she has hit her head with something hard." A different voice replied.

"We _have_ to get her to the hospital…" The first voice said. She felt someone lift her off the ground and once again, the world faded to black.

* * *

Anya woke from her nightmare, gasping and crying. Shaking from uncontrollable sobbing and fear, she sat up and once she was able to see decently, she let her feet touch the cold tiles of the floor and walked down to the kitchen…

Once Anya reached the kitchen, she saw Dmitri fix himself a cup of tea.

"Anya? What are you doing here?" Dmitri asked as he let the kettle boil.

"I…" Anya was unable to find an answer.

"You're unable to sleep, are you?"

"How did you know?"

"Everyone couldn't sleep once in a while," Dmitri replied as he poured the hot water into the teacup. There was an awkward silence between the two as Anya poured herself a glass of water. The cool liquid was a relief to her scorching throat and she downed it quickly. She felt dizzy and weak. _"Another nightmare?"_ Anya thought to herself as she filled the glass again _"When will they ever end?"_

"I… I've been having nightmares, Dmitri…" she finally broke the silence, somehow feeling as though she could trust him.

"A nightmare? About what?" he questioned.

"I _don't_ know… they just keep coming back!" Anya was cut off by the sobs that choked her throat "I… I _tried_ to make them stop… but they _always_ come back, no matter what!"

Dmitri hugged her close and whispered soft words of comfort. "I'm here, _nothing_ can harm you… you're safe…"

Anya pulled away from him once she was done crying and sighed "I know it sounds silly but… these nightmares, they're real…"

"Don't worry Anya, no matter what, you'll _always_ be mine… you're actually a strong woman and you don't know it…" And Dmitri meant every word he said "And if you ever need a reminder… you'd see a heart that's fearless and true."

"Thank you, Dmitri…" she whispered as she left the kitchen, feeling safe from harm with his reassuring words…

* * *

 **Phantom of the Opera and Carrie reference at the end because I CAN! Next up, we're gonna go to Paris! And I am your flight attendant for Fanfiction Airlines, so buckle your seatbelts and have a safe flight...**


	14. The Question

**More Dimya! This chapter was inspired by "Tea for Three" by FriendsWithNature. A fluffy Dimya one-shot. Now, this takes place after "Stay, I Pray You" and before "We'll Go From There".**

* * *

Dmitri looked out from the train of the window, taking in the sights of St. Petersburg for the last time. He was leaving the home he knew for a long time and stepping into a new, unfamiliar place… it never mattered to him until now… he may never see the place he spent his childhood there again…

"Do you think you're going to miss it?" Anya's voice cut through Dmitri's train of thought. The two were alone as Vlad had to _"check on something"_.

"Miss what? You?" He asked sarcastically, however; doubt crept up onto him…

"No." She responded as she looked out from the window, sadness glazing over her eyes "Russia…"

Dmitri hesitated for a moment before sighing "Nope."

Anya, sensing the lie, retorted "I thought it was your home."

"It was a place I once lived. End of story."

"Well then, you must plan on making Paris your true home."

"What is it with you and homes?" He snarled.

"Well, for one thing, it's something that every normal person wants, and for another thing, it's a thing where you …" Anya growled before being interrupted by Dmitri.

"What?"  
"Y… you know … oh, just forget it! You don't understand!"

An awkward silence occurred between the two as Anya slowly stood up and suddenly, the train lurched around a sharp corner. The woman yelped as she fell onto Dmitri's lap, catching the young man off-guard. Once over the initial shock, the two shared a laugh.

"That was awkward, but in a good way…" Dmitri said; meeting her sapphire blue eyes. Suddenly, he noticed how close he was to Anya, her face mere inches to his, their gaze locked.

Anya made the same realization, blushing from the encounter "Yes… it is…" she breathed, as though spellbound by their proximity.

They suddenly recoiled and returned to their seats, however; they felt an electric tension between them…

"So Anya, I guess this question might be personal but…" Dmitri said quickly in a desperate attempt to change the subject "Do you think Russia deserved the Royal Family's Service?"

"Yes," Anya answered rather quickly.

Dmitri was taken aback by the swift response and the honesty in her voice, there was no hesitation in her answer "Even after-"

She nodded fiercely "Yes." She insisted "We failed Russia by not seeking their interests above our own. Many people were hurt, and yet, we didn't do enough to deserve their trust…"

Dmitri sat in awe, respect dawning in his eyes. It was something the Grand Duchess Anastasia he knew would say… he shook his head to snap to his senses. _"This isn't really Anastasia,"_ Dmitri tried to convince himself but a prickle of doubt rose upon him _"This is Anya… but, still…"_

Anya started shaking, and Dmitri realized that he upset her with his question. Without thinking, he held her tiny hand in his.

"I want you to lead Russia… even if you're _not_ Anastasia…" And he truly meant every word he said…

Anya's tear-streaked gaze was met with sincerity and honesty in his eyes. "Thank you, Dima." She whispered. Suddenly, he squeezed her hand tighter.

"Any time…" he said quietly, looking out at the window again.

Anya sighed and looked out from the window _"I'm beginning to question what I want although I'm going to Paris…"_ She glanced back at Dmitri, who stared at the sun setting.

* * *

 **Please review! More Dimya fluff in the next chapter!**


	15. A New Morning

**I've decided this arc would be in at least three parts. One, because I didn't know how to execute the next part and two, I still need to figure out the third act...**

* * *

 _Paris, 1927_

The first rays of sunlight shone filled Anya's hotel room as the birds chirped to signify the beginning of a new day. Her blue eyes slowly opened to greet the sunlight. She sat up in bed and stretched her legs, wondering where she was. Suddenly; the realization came to her, she was in Paris and they arrived the day before! Her dreams _finally_ came true! She would be able to find out who she is and that person from her dreams!

Feeling rather cheerful; Anya decided that since the ballet that they would meet her grandmother is tomorrow and she had nothing to do, she decided to explore the beautiful sights of Paris. Anya walked up to her vanity and gasped, the night had not been kind to her looks. Her long blonde hair was in a tangled mess and nightgown gown was wrinkled. She couldn't help but giggle.

 _"You don't look so good, Anya."_ She thought to herself as she attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in her nightgown _"Well, we can fix that…"_

After giving herself a quick shower, she dressed up in a bathrobe and walked towards the edge of the balcony and allowed the cool wind to dry her hair while enjoying the sights of Paris, soon after; she brushed out the knots and put up her hair. Then, it was time to decide on a dress. She picked one that was a light shade of lavender and the fabric felt lighter than air and quickly put it on. Now, when Anya emerged from the bathroom and looked into the mirror, she saw a beautiful young woman with blue eyes and tidy, long hair. She wasn't focused on her looks but ever since discovering that she might be a long-lost princess, she made an effort to maintain a good appearance.

Anya heard a knock on the door "Come in!"

"Morning, Anya!" Dmitri chirped as he entered the hotel room.

"Morning, Dmitri!" Anya smiled back as she faced him "Where's Vlad?"  
"Vlad won't be back until the afternoon to see _"his Lily"._ " he explained, "So… you up for exploring Paris?"

"Yes. How did you know I wanted to do that?" She asked.

"Well then, let's get going!"

* * *

 **Next up! More Dimya fluff**


	16. A Walk In The Park

**(Rises from the grave) I am still alive! Whew! The first week of school has been pretty hectic! So... I was a little slower in uploading than usual... I apologize for that!**

* * *

Anya and Dmitri walked the streets of Paris together, slowly taking in the sights of a new place. The scent of freshly baked goods and ripe fruits swirled around them like a cocoon. She took a deep breath and cherished every smell. Focusing on a cart, she pulled Dmitri with her towards it.

"Dima, look!" Anya exclaimed, her stomach growling from not having breakfast yet "Croissants!"

Dmitri broke away from her grip to buy some of the flaky pastries. "Here, Anya!" Dmitri said, coming back to her with her croissant, waiting for her to respond.

She quickly took it from him and took a big bite. It was delicious and warm, how long has it been since she last ate something delicious? Anya could never forget these cold, hungry, desperate nights alone; to her, the baked goods were unfamiliar to her, in a good way.

"It's amazing." Anya groaned in delight, looking over at him, who nodded in response as he took another bite of his. Dmitri's was already almost gone.

"Dima! It's not going anywhere!" She laughed, but soon after; she realized that as a child, Dmitri might not have had gotten to eat something like this. Anya suddenly realized that they were more similar than she thought and took his arm again and decided that in the future, she would keep quiet about what he ate and anything similar. She began to pull him further down the street as they continued their tour of Paris…

* * *

 **I might have to take a little longer for the next chapter since it might be longer than I expected and there were so many versions of the next chapter in my head that it would take me a while to choose one final version that satisfies both the readers and me!**


	17. Shooting Stars

**Cookies to whoever spots the Tangled references sprinkled in this chapter. Also, in this chapter, Vlad is the #1 Dimya shipper in this fanfic...**

* * *

And so, the two did all sorts of things. They walked around while admiring the sights of Paris and Anya kept on reminding herself that her dream was almost coming true, now… she needed to find that person in her dreams.

* * *

That night, Anya and Dmitri were admiring the night sky by themselves, standing on the Pont Alexandre III… Vlad was watching the two; hidden from afar, smiling at how they started out on a rocky path, but now; he saw that Anya and Dmitri might be slowly falling in love with each other… and although they knew he kept his promise, Vlad did not want to spoil the romantic mood.

* * *

"It's beautiful," Dmitri said softly, breaking the silence. Anya let out a small sigh and he asked, "Are you alright?"

The woman shook her head "I'm terrified…" she began, "I've been dreaming of this for ten years… what if… it's not all I hoped for…" Anya stared at her reflection in the river, the obvious signs of nervousness etched on her face.

"Don't worry."

"What if it is? Then what?"

Dmitri grabbed Anya's hands; forgetting about his worries of being unable to be with her "Then, you go on a new adventure with me…" Realizing what he was doing, he suddenly recoiled and sighed. _"Yes princess, I found you at last…"_ Dmitri thought to himself sadly as he looked up at the dark sky.

"Dmitri? Are you alright?" Anya enquired out of genuine concern.

"I… It's nothing. I'm alright." Dmitri lied, forcing a smile "Look!" He cried, trying to distract her "A shooting star! Make a wish!"

Dmitri wished to himself "I know it's impossible but… can a con man and a princess be together?"

Anya looked up and whispered to herself "I want to find my family and myself…" However, something at the back of her mind doubted that it was her real wish… no! It was impossible! She was finally in Paris and is one step closer to getting her wish, but on the other hand… she was slowly beginning to warm up to Dmitri… Anya gasped as she suddenly remembered that they had a close friendship before the revolution… no wonder he looked so familiar when they first met! She smiled to herself and threw a glance at him, realizing that her wish might just be coming true in a different way…

* * *

The Dowager Marie Feoderovna looked down at the sights of Paris below her from her balcony. She had given up all hope of finding her sweet Anastasia after all the imposters for ten years. For years, she had everyone she had known taken away from her… and now, her beloved granddaughter Anastasia was taken away from her… looking up at the dark night sky, the Dowager thought to herself sadly as she saw a shooting star pass by, although it was hopeless, she had to try… _"Anastasia… are you even here? I outlived my sons and now… we never got to fulfill our promise… please, I need to know if you're alive…"_ Looking at the photo, she resigned to the fate that she would be the one who would mourn for a lifetime…

* * *

 **Every reader's worst nightmare! A cliffhanger. DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNN! Next up, the ballet and some _drama_! I think I'm 3/4 done with this fanfiction! I plan on making an audio drama adaptation of this, is this something you would like to see since audio dramas take a lot of time and work... leave your thoughts of an audio drama adaptation of this fanfic in the reviews. **


	18. A Night We'll Never Forget (Part 1)

**I might have to split this chapter up into two parts because I haven't figured out what to do with act two of this chapter yet... Cookies for those who managed to get the chapter title's reference!**

* * *

Vlad paced around outside the doors of the opera house, waiting for Anya to arrive as he muttered "What's taking her so long?"

Dmitri reassured his friend "There's nothing to be nervous about… she's _really_ Anastasia."

"I _know_ , I-" Vlad sighed.

"No, no! You _don't_ know!" Dmitri interrupted sadly "Anya knew _everything_ … that I only knew about the Grand Duchess herself…" before pulling out an envelope he had held so dearly, it was her final letter to him…

The man read the letter slowly and quietly "Did she write this to you?"

Dmitri nodded in silence "She's the real thing, Vlad…"  
Vlad's jaw dropped to the ground and there was a moment of silence.

* * *

"Oh my God… We… we found her! The Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov! She was right under our noses this whole time! Do you see what this means Dmitri?"

Dmitri slowly walked away, sighing "I guess this is goodbye _forever_ …" Vlad opened his mouth to argue but he continued "Princesses _don't_ marry street rats…"

"I _know_ but-"

"We're going to go through this as if nothing has changed…"

"You have to tell her _eventually_!"

* * *

"Tell me what?" Anya cut into their conversation, her blonde tresses was up in a bun and Dmitri couldn't help but blush.

"That you look beautiful!" He added quickly, well, he was telling half the truth, she did look beautiful; like an angel that fell down from the skies above…

"Well, thank you…" Anya smiled as Dmitri took her arm.

* * *

Dmitri gasped quietly to himself as he saw the dress Anya was wearing, it was an evening gown that was as blue as the night sky… she emitted a regal, graceful and calm aura as she ascended the stairs. _"No! Don't get distracted! You're not supposed to be in love with her!"_ He scolded himself as he shook his head vigorously and escorted Anya up the stairs…

* * *

The overture of the ballet began and Dmitri whispered as he gave her a pair of miniature binoculars, pointing to the Dowager Empress "Look, there she is…"

Anya looked and gasped, sighing to herself as the lights dimmed "Please let her remember me…"

* * *

The ballet was nearing to an end and Dmitri could see the colour drain from Anya's face "Everything's going to be fine…" he reassured.

* * *

The curtain dropped and the audience rose into a standing ovation. "Guess it's time…"

"Relax you're gonna be great!" Dmitri comforted the young woman before she turned away to leave "Hey, hey, hey!" the young man stopped her "Take a deep breath everything's gonna be fine… I promise…"

* * *

 **Warning: All the Dimya shippers might hate me for the next chapter but hey! I hate myself for what I'm going to do too next and the fluff had to end somewhere!**


	19. A Night We'll Never Forget (Part 2)

**Don't say I didn't warn you about the drama happening!**

* * *

As Anya and Dmitri approached the Dowager's private balcony, he stopped and told her "Wait here just a moment. I'll go in and announce you properly."  
"Dmitri…" Anya began, "Yes?" The young man enquired.

"Look, we've been through a lot together…" Anya fiddled with her hands as she continued "… And I just wanted to… well, thank you I guess. Yes, thank you for everything."

Dmitri, slightly taken aback, suddenly replied "Anya, I…"

"Yes?"

"I'm… I'm…"

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to wish you good luck!" And he meant every word he said "Well… here goes…" he thought to himself as he turned around and walked into the private balcony. Little did he know that out of nervousness, Anya overheard every single word of the conversation…

* * *

Once Dmitri saw Lily, he quickly began "Please inform her majesty, The Dowager Empress; that I have found her granddaughter… the Grand Duchess Anastasia. She's waiting to see her just outside the door."

Lily apologized profusely, worry looming over her face "I'm very sorry, young man but the Dowager Empress, she _won't_ see _anyone anymore_ …"

Upon hearing that, the Dowager came out; rage crossing her face as Dmitri mumbled out of earshot, "Speak of the devil…"

"You may tell that impertinent young man that I have seen _enough_ Grand Duchess Anastasias to last me a lifetime." The Dowager's voice was soft and steely, almost unfeeling.

Lily, knowing what might happen next if she doesn't obey, persuaded "Um, you better go."

"Please! Let me just-"

"Now if you'll excuse me I wish to live the remainder of my lonely life in peace." She turned away as Lily gave an apologetic glance at Dmitri.

"Come, I'll see you to the door. Come, come now, come to the door." She tried to soothe her mistress.

Dmitri blocked their path "Your majesty, I intend you no harm. My name is Dmitri… Dmitri Sudayev. And I really-"

"Well, that's one I haven't heard, I must say." The Dowager turned away from the young man.

"Wait, don't go please if you'll just hear me out-" He begged.

"I know what you're after. I've seen it before! Men who train young women in the royal ways." She interrupted, silently giving an icy glance, as the security guards surrounded her.

"But if your highness will… just listen-" Dmitri persuaded.

"Haven't you been listening? I've had enough. I don't care how much you have fashioned this girl to look like her, sound like her or act like her. In the end, it _never_ is her!"

* * *

Anya gasped in shock from what she was hearing _"Was it really true?"_ She thought to herself _"Did… did he lie to me? I was living a lie the entire time?"_ Hot tears began to form behind her eyes as she continued to listen to the conversation…

* * *

 ***Hides from rotten tomatoes and pebbles***

 **Hey, I hate myself for this too! But the fluff had to end somewhere.**


	20. A Night We'll Never Forget (Part 3)

***Treats bruises with arnica***

 **Wow, all of you have a good aim… (Especially you, Phantom Actress). Make sure to look out for "The Last Five Years" reference at the end. And I have a feeling there's more to come so…**

 ***Hides behind barricade***

* * *

"This time it is her!" Dmitri persuaded the Dowager.

"Dmitri, I've heard of you." The Dowager said, "You're that con man from St. Petersburg, who was holding auditions to find an Anastasia look-a-like."

* * *

Anya gasped in horror as she tried to grapple the fact he lied to her and she trusted him all this time! A wave of anger and sadness overwhelmed her as Anya continued to eavesdrop on the heated argument…

* * *

"But your grace, we've come all the way from Russia _just_ to see you…" He continued, desperate to make her listen.

"And others have come from Timbuktu."

"No, it's not that, it's _not_ what you think."

"How much pain will you inflict on an old woman for money?" The Dowager cried "Remove him _at once_!" She cried to the security guards.

"But she is Anastasia, I'm telling you, she's the Grand Duchess. If you'll only speak to her, you'll see!" Dmitri cried as he was pushed out of the balcony. And at the wrong time, he bumped headfirst into a devastated, tear-stricken Anya, staring at him with agonizing realization.

* * *

"It was _all_ a lie, wasn't it?" Her voice broke as she asked the question.

"No, no…" Dmitri reassured the young woman, trying to place a comforting arm around her. She slapped his arm away as Anya continued "You _used_ me… I, I was just a part of your con to get her money!" She was cut off by the sobs that choked her throat.

"No, no, no, no look it may have started out that way… but everything's different now because you really are Anastasia, you are."

"No… Stop it! From the very beginning, you lied… and I not only believed you, I, I _actually_ …"

"Anya, please." He persuaded "Remember when you said you sent some letters to a boy in secret? Listen to me… that boy was actually-"

"NO! I don't want to hear about anything I said or remembered! You just leave me alone!" Anya cried, turning away from him. When Dmitri tried to take her arm, she slapped him and ran off. Dmitri tried to catch up with her but was stuck in the bustling crowd "Anya, please. You _have_ to know the truth!"

* * *

Anya didn't care anymore… she trusted him and he used it to his advantage… and all for money… _"What about lies, Dmitri?"_ Anya thought to herself as she silently sobbed to herself _"What about things that you swore to be true?"_

* * *

 **Wait! Don't go! It's not over yet! You know every love story has to have some sort of drama/conflict/betrayal… I suppose that it could've been less dramatic but…**

 ***Straps helmet and armour on***

 **Okay. Hit me with your best shot, Dimya shippers…**


	21. Mending Fences (Part 1)

**Just a few more chapters to go… Without giving too much away, in this chapter; Dmitri tries to make amends with the Dowager…**

* * *

"Great job, Dmitri…" he muttered to himself sarcastically "You screwed up big time!" He expected it to happen any time soon… Dmitri knew that she would eventually see through it… but Anya's reaction still cut through him like knives… How could he make up for it? What caught his eye was the Dowager who was being escorted to a car outside… a plan began to form in Dmitri's head…

* * *

Once he knew the Dowager was inside, Dmitri quickly slid into the driver's seat and the car roared away from sight… he knew that these skills he acquired as a street rat would come in handy!

"Hey!" An angry, deep voice cried as he drove as fast as he could… the Dowager, rather stunned by the fast motion, ordered "Ilya, slow down!"

"I'm not Ilya and I _won't_ slow down!" Dmitri retorted, turning around to face the old woman.

Recognizing the young man, she cried angrily "You! How dare you?! Stop this car _immediately!_ Stop this car!"

The car slammed to a stop in front of a hotel, the hotel that he, Vlad and Anya were staying in... Dmitri jumped out of the car and went around to the Dowager's door and opened it.

"You _have_ to talk to her!" He begged "Just look at her. Please."

"I _won't_ be badgered by you a moment longer." She persisted.

"Do you recognize this?" He took out a music box and thrusted it gently into her hands. The Dowager gasped in shock and held it against her chest tightly.

"Oh, where did you get this?" Her face softened and years of loneliness and grief seemed to wash away from it…

"I know you've been hurt and went through a lot..." Dmitri's voice softened "But it's just possible that she's been as lost and alone as you."

"You'll stop at nothing will you?"

"I'm probably about as stubborn as you are…" He escorted the old woman to the door. "Now, hurry before it's too late…"

* * *

 **Oh, shoot! I did it again, didn't I? Well, I'm just gonna have to roll with it! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!**


	22. Mending Fences (Part 2)

**Oh, I'm so stoked about this chapter! I better stop typing or I'll probably give everything away! Also, two chapters in a day? Wow! I'm on fire!**

* * *

Anya began to take out her empty suitcase, intending to leave Paris… for she knew that her family wasn't there… as she started to take the clothes from her cupboard, she heard a loud knocking noise on the door.

"Go away, Dmitri…" Anya sulked, annoyed as she opened the door; revealing the Dowager herself!

"Oh, I'm sorry. I… I thought you were…"

"I know very well who you thought I was." The old woman forgave "Who exactly are _you?_ "

"Eh… I … I was hoping you could tell me."

The Dowager sighed as she entered and sat down on the bed "My dear, I'm old and I'm _tired_ of being conned and tricked."

"I _don't_ want to trick you." She reassured, sitting down as well; heaving a huge sigh of tiredness.

"And I suppose the money _doesn't_ interest you either?" The old woman enquired.

"I just want to know who I am whether or not I have to a family... I have a hunch that it is your family…" Anya continued truthfully.

The Dowager stood up and said stoically "You're a very good actress. The best yet, in fact. But I've had enough." As she swept past the young woman, Anya caught the scent of a familiar perfume…

"Orange blossoms?"

The question caught the old woman off-guard and she paused, still suspicious about the young woman in front of her "An oil for my hands…"

Anya closed her eyes and she felt the memories flooding back to her… "Yes… I spilled a bottle… The carpet was soaked. And it forever smelled of orange blossoms…" she smiled calmly "Like you…" , unable to stop; she surprised both herself and the Dowager while she continued to talk about her memories "I used to lie there on the rug and oh how I missed you when you went away… When you came here. To Paris. You always said _'I'll meet you right there in Paris…'_ "

The Dowager stared in wonder, nobody knew about what she said to her granddaughter!

"Do you remember the last time you saw Anastasia?" her voice cut through the old woman's thoughts "You were leaving for Paris… you _never_ came back." her voice broke as she continued "You gave her a music box…"

Looking at what the Dowager was holding, Anya pointed to the artefact and whispered "I believe this was it…"

Stunned, the Dowager sat down next to her and sighed sadly "It was our secret. My Anastasia's and mine…" Slightly unsure, she handed the young woman the music box.

Anya hummed the lullaby as she opened it, then; the familiar sound began to play.

The Dowager gasped at the young girl; only her sweet Anastasia and herself knew how to open it! The young woman _was_ indeed Anastasia!

 _"Far, away… long ago…"_ Anya sang softly, her sweet voice filling the room; her voice broken with emotions. _"Glowing dim as an ember…"_

 _"Things my heart used to know…"_ The Dowager chimed in, tears streaming down her face as she continued the lullaby.

 _"Once upon a December…"_ They both finished. Staring at each other in realization, the Dowager embraced the young woman in front of her.

Anya buried her head into her grandmother's chest, tears of joy and relief overcoming her. "I _found_ you, Nana…" soon, she escalated into heart-breaking sobs "You don't know how _long_ I've been searching for you…"

"Shh… Shh…" her grandmother comforted, stroking her granddaughter, also overwhelmed by the emotional reunion "Oh Anastasia! My Anastasia! What matters now is that we have each other…"

* * *

Dmitri looked up from the window and a flurry of emotions also overcame him as he left _"Yes princess,"_ He thought to himself as he smiled sadly _"I found you again, at last…"_ and his job here was done...

* * *

 **Wait! Don't go! It's not over yet! Three more chapters to go! Be patient, I will update as soon as possible. Right now, I need to complete an assignment for school.**


	23. Crown Jewels and Families

A few days since the discovery, Anya and the Dowager were living together in her apartment; trying to make up for the years that were lost. Anya picked up a photograph of herself and her siblings, remembering that fateful night…

* * *

 _"My music box!" Anastasia cried in fear, she ran to the ballroom until Maria gripped onto her arm._

 _"Anastasia, no! You could get hurt!" Maria pleaded; Anastasia knew she was very angry and terrified for when she felt strong emotions, Maria never used her beloved sister's nickname. Her voice was breaking as she whispered her pleas, concerned for her sister's safety._

 _"Mashka… you… you don't know… Nana gave it to me when she was leaving for Paris, she never came back…"_

 _"I know how you feel… I just can't lose you in the midst of danger… like what happened to our parents, our sisters_ and _brother!"_

 _"I'm sorry, Mashka… I'm so sorry…" Anastasia whispered tearing up as she let go of her sister's grip and ran to the ballroom..._

 _"Anastasia!" Maria screamed, shaking with sobs as she ran to her. However, she was killed soon after calling Anastasia's name._

* * *

"I'm so, so sorry…" Anya whispered to the photograph, her big blue eyes filling with tears "I failed to protect you… It's all my fault…"

The Dowager gently took the picture from her, stroking her granddaughter's hair gently.

"I'm sorry… It's just… I remember now, how much I loved them… and I failed them…"

"It's alright, little Natsya. Remember that your family would always be watching over us… They would not want us to live in the past, not now that we have found each other." Her grandmother reassured "Oh look here." The Dowager said to change the subject, taking out a drawing from an unopened jewellery box "The drawings you gave me. Remember?"

Anya took the picture and smiled fondly "Yes! Olga made me so mad. She said it looked like a pig riding a donkey! She was right!" And she laughed merrily at the memory.

"In your laughter, once again I hear my Nicky, your dear father…" The Dowager smiled sadly as she opened a box of jewels, taking out an exquisite tiara from the pile "But you have the beauty of your mother, Alexandra, Empress of all Russia…"

Anya gasped as the tiara was placed on her head, she looked like a princess indeed…

* * *

 **One down, two more to go!**


	24. Saying Goodbye

**I decided to split what was meant to be the penultimate chapter into 4 parts as it would be quite a long chapter!**

* * *

"You sent for me, your grace?" Dmitri asked, trying not to get off the wrong foot like last time they met.

"Ten million rubles… As promised, with my gratitude." The Dowager nodded.

The young man stood before the prize money in front of him. It was what he wanted but… why wasn't he satisfied? Ultimately; he made his own decision that would benefit everyone…

"I accept your gratitude, your Highness. But I don't want the money. You are free to donate it to charity."

"What do you want then?" The old woman enquired suspiciously.

Dmitri hesitated for a moment before saying "Unfortunately, nothing you can give…" Well, it was the only way he could probably cope without Anya by his side; no, she was the Grand Duchess Anastasia now… if only street rats could end up with royalty… he bowed to the Dowager and was about to leave before the old woman asked "Why the change of mind?"

"It was more like a change of heart…" He turned to leave "And I must go…" and he bolted out of the room as quickly as he could…

* * *

As Dmitri descended the staircase, he bumped into the person he did not want to see; not if he can't be with her… Anya- no, the Grand Duchess Anastasia was dressed in a beautiful scarlet silk dress, covered in ruby-red jewels and her tiara was bejewelled with rubies… she, she looked regal like a queen…

"Hello, Dimitri." Anastasia said distantly, averting his gaze.

"Hello." Dmitri mumbled back awkwardly, blushing like a beetroot.

"Did you collect your reward?"

"My business is complete."

The major-domo came down the stairs and ordered the young man "Eh, young man you will bow and address the Princess as 'Your Highness.'"

"No, that's not nec-" The young woman interjected before Dmitri raised his hand to stop her from arguing and he bowed to her before saying "Please, your Highness. I'm glad you found what you were looking for…"

"Yes." Anastasia responded, still avoiding eye-contact with him "I'm glad you did too."

"Well, then… Goodbye." The young man sighed sadly before turning away and slowly leaving "Your Highness."

Anya stared at Dmitri as he bowed and exited the building, softly saying to herself "Goodbye…"

* * *

Vlad was looking back at the reflection in the mirror, admiring himself in his tuxedo. Lily nudged him gently and whispered "It's time…"

As Vlad and Lily were about to leave, they bumped into Dmitri and the young man sighed before picking up his suitcase "Well if you're travelling to who knows where, drop by and say hello. So long, Vlad."

The older man hugged his friend, true; they never always got along but he knew that Dmitri long enough that he actually had doubts about leaving, and overtime; he became like the son Vlad never had… "Oh, my boy, you're making a mistake."

"Trust me, this is the one thing I'm doing right." Dmitri pulled away from him as he forced a smile. Before Vlad could argue, the young man shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder.

"I can't stay. I don't belong here." He turned and fled from the room.


	25. What Do I Want?

The Dowager had a press conference planned a few days after their reunion to announce the return of the lost princess Anastasia. Vlad and Lily were trying to calm the anxious reporters down in the main hall, while Anya was preparing to present herself as the sole survivor of the Romanov family massacre. The Dowager would introduce her and Anya was supposed to follow behind, give answers to the reporters' questions that they'd publish to the world, and officially claim her right to the royal family line. No pressure.

But she had absolutely no idea how she would manage to pull all that off with her overwhelming thoughts. _"I know I'm finally home and I found my family, but… why do I feel like something's missing?"_

The Dowager walked in to check on her granddaughter and asked "Are you thinking of that young man who found you?"

"Yes, I-" Anya sighed before quickly trying to lie, despite knowing that it was no use "Who am I thinking of?"

"The young man who saved you and helped us find each other again…"

"No, he's probably too busy spending his reward money as fast as he can."

"Think for a while! You were _born_ to this world of glittering jewels and fine titles, but I wonder if _this_ is what you really want." The Dowager wondered in concern, knowing the flicker of doubt cross her granddaughter's face.

Anya forced a smile as she tried to sound cheerful "Of course, of course it is. I found what I was looking for. I found out who I am. I found you."

"Yes you did find me, and you'll always have me. But is it enough?" Her grandmother persisted, not believing what Anya had said; before they pulled into a hug "My darling…" The Dowager's eyes filled with tears and she knew she had to tell her the truth; she pulled away, met her gaze and continued "… he didn't take the money."

"He… didn't?" Anya asked, her voice and face filled with shock. _"Why?"_

"Whatever you choose, we will always have each other." The Dowager said as she pulled her granddaughter in for another hug, before pulling away and meeting the mob of reporters outside…"

"Is… is this the life I want?" Anya wondered to herself, her thoughts swirled like a brewing snowstorm, circling back and forth through her mind. It was almost impossible to focus with the question burning in her head.

* * *

 **Oh shoot! A cliff-hanger? Well, I'll just roll with it! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**


	26. Confrontation

**You want action and drama? I'll give you action and drama!**

* * *

There she was. Gleb's heart pounded as he saw her… the Grand Duchess herself… _"Could I kill her if I love her?"_ Gleb wondered as he came closer… _"No, if I can't love her… that's the only option I could take!"_

* * *

She took a deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her silky, bejewelled dress before slipping her white gloves on. _"I can do this."_ However, every time she tried to reassure herself, the more antsy and panicky she became.

Her thoughts were so loud she couldn't hear the stomping footsteps enter the room. The young woman turned to face…

"Gleb?" What was _he_ doing here all the way outside of Russia? Shouldn't he be enforcing the 'New Order' back at home?

"I let you go once, I won't let you off easily now. Paris," he spat, "is _no_ place for a good and loyal Russian."

She swallowed. He knew. The son of the man who helped murder her family knew who she really was. "We are both good and loyal Russians." Anya pleaded.

"I've come to take you home." He told her.

"My home is here now."

"Stop _playing_ this game, Anya!" Gleb grabbed her arm as she tried to leave.

She shook away from him and clenched her fists tightly. "We _both_ know it's not a game, Gleb."

He stared at her "If you _really_ are Anastasia," he started, stepping closer, looming over the petite woman "do you _think_ history wants you to have lived?"

This was going too far. "Yes. Why don't _you_?" Anya argued back.

"The Romanovs were given _everything_ , and gave back _nothing!_ Until the Russian people _rose up_ and _destroyed_ them."

Anya's spine straightened. _"All but one."_

* * *

Gleb's eyes widened. She just blatantly admitted her identity to someone with a job to finish, proudly and strongly. She didn't look like the meek, soft-spoken street-sweeper he met in Leningrad not so long ago, but a confident, poised and graceful woman… no! If he can't be with her, then the only compromise is for the both of them to die!

* * *

 _"Strong, not afraid of anything…"_ The memory struck a chord in her. Anya the street-sweeper, Anastasia the princess, whatever she was, Anastasia the princess wasn't going to be weak and not easily give up a fight. Anya the street-sweeper might have played along, but she was done running. Done hiding. Now was the time to face her past. Letting out the strong woman she actually was, caged underneath after all these years of grief, regret and fear…

 _"Finish it,"_ she dared, coming closer to him. "I _am_ my father's daughter."

"And I _am_ my father's son!" Up close, Anya saw flickers of fear and doubt in his dark eyes. She slowly backed away, but Gleb was blocking the doorway so she had no choice but to back up and stand her ground. He pulled a pistol from his pocket. Click. "Finish it I _must."_

* * *

He aimed it directly at her face. She stared down the barrel, gaze unwavering, unshakable, her head held high. Anya knew that she had to do it!

 _"In me you see them— look at their faces in mine, hear their screams, imagine their terror, see their blood!"_ She pleaded

But Gleb still held the weapon steady, he bellowed angrily _"For the last time, who are you?!"_

Anya hesitated for a moment before confidently answering "I am! The Grand Duchess! Anastasia! Nikolaevna! Romanov!"

* * *

"Be careful what a dream may bring!" Gleb warned the Grand Duchess "A revolution is a simple-"

 _"You are not your father's son… promise me that you'll never end up like him…"_

His mother's dying words suddenly resurfaced… his gaze shifted from her face down towards the floor, no doubt deciding who he wanted to become in that moment: his father, or himself _"My God, who am I?"_

* * *

Anya prepared herself for the end. But finally, he winced, scraped the sweat off his brow, and cried out in frustration. The gun clattered to the floor. Kneeling down, he hesitated for a moment before picking it up and putting it close to his head; but afterwards, he dropped the gun to the floor…

Anya released a breath she had no idea she'd been holding.

Gleb crumpled down and wept. His hands shuttering, the young woman kneeled down and sadly asked "What kind of life have you been forced to live?" before reassuring "It's not too late to change your fate…" and gave him a kiss on the forehead as the young man sobbed softly to himself "I... I _can't._ I _can't_ be my father's son anymore."

Stupidly brave as always, Anya crouched down next to him, patting his trembling shoulder. "I _know_ the feeling." She suddenly knew exactly what she had to do…

"You're free to leave…" He grunted.

Anya gasped before Gleb cried "Run before I _change_ my mind!"

Then she bolted towards the doorway before he got the chance to change his mind.

* * *

Gleb sighed to himself as he thought _"The Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov… what am I going to tell everyone once I get home?"_

* * *

 **I bet this was the part everyone was anticipating for! And to be honest, I was worried Gleb would end up like Javert from Les Mis, thank God that did not happen! Oh boy, it took me a while to get the confrontation scene's ending just right! I'll admit, I pulled stuff from the musical, not to mention that bit from Phantom of the Opera at the end.**


	27. The Only Thing I Lose, Is

**Wow, I'm spoiling all of you guys with four chapters in just one day.**

* * *

Her footsteps echoed throughout the hallway where she finally ran into the Dowager.

"Anastasia, what- are you alright?"

"I'm fine-" she panted. The adrenaline of almost dying finally ebbed away, leaving her hands shaking, heart thundering. Anya said "I ran into someone and- I now know what I want… he helped me realize what's missing…" It felt unnecessary to tell her grandmother about the confrontation that occurred.

Anya's mind finally passed, at last leaving her with mental clarity. "I'm sorry but... I spent my whole life searching for my past, for my family. I found you and that was more than I ever dreamed! But a life full of press interviews, dozens of people waiting on me hand and foot, living in ginormous palaces? It's just not for me."

The Dowager took her hand gently "I understand, my dear. You want to elope with Dmitri…"

Startled by how blunt her grandmother was, Anya admitted, "I'm going to talk to him again and see if we can work something out. If he rejects me, I'll be... okay." She pulled her grandmother into a reassuring embrace "I'm not alone anymore… I've got you, Lily and Vlad… You once told me that wherever you'll go, I'll always be with you."

"And that will _always, always_ be true."

She kissed her Nana on the cheek, the smell of orange blossom filled her nose, and her memories.

"Now hurry," The Dowager whispered, "before he gets on his train."

Anya pulled back to look at her face, her voice etched with shock. " _What do you mean?_ I thought he was just at the hotel." He wouldn't leave that soon, would he?

This didn't make any sense. "But... _why_ is he leaving so soon then?"

The Dowager shrugged. "He didn't seem to think you need him."

The realization hit Anya like a waterfall, gasping; she realized Dmitri truly loved her! _True_ , she had known before; when he had held her and nearly kissed her, when he complimented her at the ballet, when he had refused the reward… but now… _"How could we both be so stupid?"_

Anya buried her face in her hands and mumbled to herself, _"I'm an idiot! Why did I yell at him on the night of the ballet? Why didn't I say 'goodbye' to him if I knew he was leaving? Why did I… why did I…"_ before escalating into heart-wrenching sobs.

It didn't matter! Blaming herself would only make things worse. She had more pressing issues. "I _have_ to find him and fix my mistake... I'm sorry."

"Go! I'll handle the press, my dear."

Anya couldn't help but feel guilty. "But what about you?"

"Remember that I will always be with you, now hurry before it's too late!"

Anya smiled and thanked her grandmother gratefully. Then she sprinted down the hall towards the back exit.

* * *

 **And the end is almost near! DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNN!**


	28. Home, Love Family (Finale Ultimo)

**Five chapters in one day? Dang, I'm on fire! Anyways, here it is; the one you have been waiting for. The final chapter of this story! It's been fun but all good things have to come to an end… Thank you guys for your support throughout the story… It always feels bittersweet to finish writing a story and as quoted by Count Ipolitov (God bless his soul): "Harsh and sweet and bitter to leave it all". And for this chapter, someone call the Dimya crew! We're having a party tonight in honour of this chapter!**

 **Enjoy the last chapter, everybody!**

* * *

Anya stood on the bridge, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. The streets of Paris were quiet and lonely at this hour… There he was! She wasn't too late!

Dmitri looked up as he heard footsteps, _"Anya?"_ He wondered _"What's she doing here?"_ The young man shook his head and scolded himself for believing this cruel game of fate _"No, she was a Grand Duchess and he was a street rat. Princesses don't marry street rats."_

* * *

Anya took another step and opened her mouth, before she could speak; Dmitri cut her off as he started "If you ever see me from a carriage again. _Don't_ wave, _don't_ smile." Before he looked away from her "I _don't want_ to be in love with someone I _can't_ be with for the rest of my life!"

* * *

The young woman tried to process these words as she realized their feelings for each other… "Goodbye." He continued, standing up and giving a bow "Your highness…" The young man took his suitcase and started to walk away.

 _"Oh no you don't!"_ Anya thought to herself, before impulsively saying "I _always_ dreamed that my first kiss would be with a prince!" He stopped and turned around "I'm _not_ your prince, Anya!"

* * *

"The Grand Duchess Anastasia would _beg_ to disagree!" The young woman announced as she smiled and walked towards him, taking his suitcase and placing it at his feet. Stepping on top of it so that the petite woman reached his height, Anya looked him in the eyes and added _"Dima."_

* * *

She did not wait for an answer. There was no time for that! Instead, she was straightforward and their lips met before he could protest.

Dmitri was initially caught off-guard, but he quickly relaxed and wrapped his arms around her waist. He felt warmth, not just from her but from himself! He found himself liking the kiss; her soft lips touching his mouth and butterflies flew in their stomach. _"So this is love…"_ Dmitri thought to himself happily.

* * *

Warmth rushed through her body and her heartbeat resounded loudly in her ears. She felt as if fireworks were set off and exploding around her and Anya's happiness soaring like a bird in her heart.

As they softly separated, he looked at her; a tender smile crossing his face.

"Maybe I _could_ stay…" Dmitri chuckled _"My little Natsya…"_

* * *

They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. He simply lifted her in the air and nimbly set her down, offering her his arm. As she took it, his eyes met her own and her heart soared and fluttered in her chest.

* * *

 _"Dear Nana, wish me luck. Wherever I go, you'll always be with me…"_ The Dowager read the note Anya gave to her.

"They've eloped. Isn't it romantic? It's a _perfect_ ending." Lily sighed romantically.

"No," The Dowager smiled "It's a _perfect_ beginning…"

* * *

All was well. Anya found her family and her home, she discovered who she was and she had Dmitri, who _loved_ her for who she was… he _loved_ her and she loved him, and that was _all_ that mattered. And as cliché as it sounds, they _all_ lived happily ever after!

* * *

 ***Closes book to signal end of story time***

 **It's done… Dreams of My Past is actually done… wow, it was just like yesterday when I was sitting down one night and just… writing this story and… wow. You guys, thank you for your support! I love you all! Ok, I'm done! This fanfic is over but… I plan on doing an audio drama of this story on my YouTube channel of the same name! Leave your thoughts of an audio drama adaptation in the reviews down below!**

 **Goodbye until next time!**


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